I Must Become A Lion-Hearted Girl
by PartyInTheNorth
Summary: Myrcella Stark rarely shows any signs of her Lannister heritage, but when it comes to her children, she's as fierce as a lioness. Robbcella one-shot.


Four years into their marriage, and this was the first time he had seen any Cersei in her. It was often easy to forget that Myrcella had any Lannister roots, but Stannis Baratheon really hadn't known what he was getting himself into when he came to Winterfell demanding her son.

It wasn't an unfair request, just Stannis- who only had a daughter, so somehow little Eddard Stark was the heir to the Iron Throne now- asking to foster Eddard, teach him the ropes of running the Seven Kingdoms; introduce him to the court; make him some allies.

But Myrcella was not a woman to surrender her children to the ferocity of the court she had been brought up in. The lioness came out in her, the glaze in her eyes that hid her protectiveness, the cruel half-smile that she had borrowed from her mother.

'My lady Stark, this is a great honour for your son,' Stannis tried to explain, 'I only hope to make him as proficient and just a king as your father.'

(He meant Robert Baratheon, although everyone knew by now that he wasn't her real father).

'My father was a drunken lecher who couldn't even see the treason right before his nose,' Myrcella said coldly, 'If my son is anything like him, I'll kill him myself.'

At this point Jon Targaryen, the king's hand, decided to step in. 'Lady Myrcella,' he said, allowed to be friendly with her because he was Robb's best friend and cousin and he had been at their wedding, 'This is a good opportunity for Eddard.'

'You would steal him from his mother at the age of eleven and corrupt him by the presence of those... Those vipers?' Myrcella yelled, and Robb gently stepped forward and took her wrist to hold her back. She ignored him, and continued, 'I know, Jon, I know what it's like there, I grew up there!'

'My Lady Myrcella, I am sure you would find the court much changed since your childhood,' Jon tried to explain, and Robb half-smiled, reassuringly, at his brother-cousin.

Myrcella cut him off, 'How could you say that, when your very own wife was beaten before my eyes by the kingsguard? That place is a den of evil, and has been since they created that damned throne.'

'Cella,' murmured Robb gently, moving his mouth to her ear and his hand to the far side of her waist, 'Just let him speak a moment.'

'Under Good King Stannis, the court has become a just and noble place where every voice may be heard and no weapons are allowed within the throne room walls,' explained Jon, 'We also, on important occasions, have balls and feasts which your ladyship would delight to behold.'

'Lady Myrcella,' said Stannis, when she looked pensive and didn't argue, 'I can only ask that you give your son the best chance possible of becoming a good ruler, and it is only by observing that he will learn how.'

Myrcella bit her lip, curling a little into Robb's embrace. 'Fine,' she said, sharply, 'Eddard may be fostered at court-'

'-Thank you, Myrcella,' cut in Jon, but she wasn't finished.

'-Only if Robb and I go beforehand and see that everything is as wonderful as you say it is.'

Robb grimaced. He didn't really fancy going south again, but he knew fighting his wife would be futile.

...

The second time he saw her claws was in King's Landing. They had spent the day in court, hearing about marriage proposals and petty arguments, and then attended a feast in the evening. It was grand, and Eddard loved it- though not quite as much as his big sister Eugenia, who had danced with three young knights and blushed a beautiful rosy-red like her Aunt Sansa- but now they were both a little drunk. It was a hot night, as they so often were in the south, and even Myrcella was suffering. She was huffing and sighing and rolling furiously, kicking the sheets onto Robb.

'I can't sleep,' she said finally.

'Neither can I,' Robb sighed, 'It's too hot in this damned city.'

Myrcella stood up, the mattress lifting when her weight left it. She stood in the moonlight by the window and stripped off her nightgown, drawing open the windows to let the breeze in. The silvery light shimmered on her damp skin, her golden hair nearly silver. Robb climbed over as quietly as he could, not wanting to disturb the nymph before him. He stood right behind her and kissed her neck, letting his hands rest on her waist, still curvaceous and goddess-like even after giving birth twice.

Myrcella suddenly turned around and attacked his mouth with hers, biting and sucking and licking his flesh until she broke away just long enough to rip off his smallclothes and sink down to her knees. As her lips closed around him, Robb shuddered. He couldn't remember ever feeling such pleasure. Once she was done, she licked all the way up his chest, until Robb could finally grab her and kiss her, seizing her light frame in his arms and throwing her down on the bed.

They both slept well after that.

...

Robb could only wonder how much of her behaviour was inherited from Cersei when they finally left Eddard in King's Landing, standing meekly beside Stannis, his little bottom lip trembling. His fine leather doublet didn't make him look any older than his 12 years, and it pained Robb to think that he had been only a little older when he started a war. He wondered if he had looked so lost and afraid. Probably.

Myrcella was trying not to cry, and when Robb released his son from a hug worthy of Jon Snow- Targaryen, he must remember- she bent down before her son.

'Now, Ned,' she said in a gentle voice, 'I don't want you to cry, darling. You will have a good life here, and you have nothing to cry for. All that is being left behind is the snow of the North.'

She leant in closer, and whispered, 'The snow will still be there, my sweet, and one day you will be King, and you may travel wherever you wish, and you will discover that there are more exciting places than Winterfell.'

'But I will miss you, mother,' said Eddard, in a tiny voice, and his mother leant in and embraced him, clutching him tightly against her chest. She kissed the top of his head.

'Goodbye, my sweetling,' she said, smiling at him as she boarded the ship that was to carry them most of the way home. She waved until she could no longer see him, and then she broke down in Robb's arms.

Robb wondered if Cersei, for all her faults, had loved her children this much. When Myrcella had been sent to Dorne, he wondered if her mother too had put on a brave face. Although it was impossible, he thought there was a lot of the Baratheon family in Myrcella. She was bold and proud and honourable: all the best parts of her uncles.

Robb released his wife when he saw their daughter Eugenia come over. She wrapped her arm around her mother, her ruby-red hair billowing in the ocean breeze, and for Robb, it didn't matter whether Myrcella was Lannister, Baratheon or a damned goat- he loved her, and their family was strong. Strong as the Starks of old.

**A/N: My first venture into Robbcella, but I ship this with the fire of a thousand suns. So there you go. I also would like to apologise for not writing any fic forever, but I've been pretty busy with schoolwork and betaing and thinking about finally writing something for the novel idea I had two months ago. Prompts (though not really for Gendrya, sorry) are still really welcome, especially as I have half term next week so I should have more time!**


End file.
